Page 82 of Bad Wolf

“I woke up this morning and it’s like a fog had lifted, but I know we still have a long way to go.”

I agree. “I feel the same way. We’ve got to take this slow.”

“Slow,” he nods. “Right. And wouldn’t you know, that’s just my speed. Slow and steady, that’s me.” I’m gifted with the widest most wonderful smile.

His pearly whites gleam in the light from the dash and the corners of his eyes crinkle. It pulls a laugh from me I don’t think I’ve heard since the morning we sat in that little diner making plans that spanned a lifetime.

“Knox, I don’t think you even understand the meaning of the word but luckily for you, I know exactly what it involves.”

In my fantasies, I hoped we’d just fall back into each other’s arms, but the reality is that six years is a long time and there’s no doubt we aren’t the same versions of ourselves we once knew.

Even though I don’t say it out loud, I’m worried it’s all going to come crashing down around me again. That I’m suddenly going to wake up and that scene by the pool, in front of his family, the words he said, would all just have been a wish that my heart had made.

A figment of my imagination, and I find myself at the Port Authority bus terminal buying a one-way ticket out of here.

“What’s your schedule like this week?” Knox asks, drawing me out of my swirling, albeit lighter, head.

“Erm, my contract is flexible at the minute. I work on anything Anna sends me. We planned for me to work remotely from wherever…”

Wherever I ended up next.

“Okay, tomorrow night, how about dinner? We can start simple. You still like food, right?”

I can’t help the way my lips hitch up in a smile as I nod, “I do.”

“Any new or weird dietary requirements you’ve acquired since high school?”

“Nope,” I smile. “If it starts with carbs and ends with carbs I’m good.”

“Italian it is then.”

“Right. Italian,” I say, the shock definitely starting to kick in. The astonishing turn of events has left me a little off balance, in a good way, but still, off balance.

“Should I get your number?”

My hands fiddle with the handle of my bag. “I think you already have it.”

His eyebrows raise, “I do?”

“Yep. I never changed it, Knox.” I shrug and try to keep the sadness out of my voice.

“Just in case.”

“Just in case,” he repeats and then turns to look out of the windshield.

Unless he’s erased it from his memory, which is a real possibility, he knows my cell number by heart.

“So I’ll be seeing you?” I don’t miss the tentativeness of my voice and neither does he.

He shakes out of whatever daze he was just in and turns off his engine.

“Come on. I’ll walk you up.” He unclips his seatbelt as I do the same, gathering up my things.

We walk silently to the door, which he holds open for me, and then wordlessly to the elevator. It’s not awkward though. I’m too busy soaking in his nearness to think of anything to say.

Once we’re outside Scott’s door, I search my bag for the key, embarrassed by the amount of time it takes to find it. But I do, and then with a flick of my wrist, I’m in.

“Thank you for walking me in.”

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